


Those Who Favor Fire

by machinekeys



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Ecto-incest, F/F, Tentabulges, Terrible attempts at roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machinekeys/pseuds/machinekeys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Rose, Roxy, and Kanaya act out scenes from ‘Elspeth’s Sexxxxy Majykkal Adventur’, bicker relentlessly, and ruin a perfectly good couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Favor Fire

“Ah, Miss Ebonyheart, how lovely of you to grace us with your presence.” Rose arched a perfectly elegant eyebrow and gestured to the empty seat in front of her desk, her robes swishing softly. “If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat, I would so enjoy continuing today’s lesson without further interruption.”  
  
“E’bonyh’eart,” said Roxy, folding her arms and scowling at Rose. She cut a striking figure, her usual skirt and t-shirt exchanged for a fitted, green suit.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“Eh-bony-huh-art. Rosie, you’re forgetting the hypostrophes. Astrophes. Ass trophies, lol.” She giggled and waggled her eyebrows at Rose and Kanaya. “I think you two deserve a couple of those.”  
  
Rose traced one finger over the desk’s polished surface. It was a good desk, not real mahogany of course, but sturdy nonetheless. It would probably hold up to her smashing her head into it a few hundred times. “Roxy, Elder One’s help me, your name, much like the rest of your fanfiction, is absolutely ridiculous.”  
  
Kanaya cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her hiding spot in the corner. Her deep red gown was not made for squatting awkwardly in place for take after take, and must have been dreadfully chafing. “Perhaps we could simply carry on with it. I would very much like to avoid yet another squabble over literature and fanprose.”  
  
“Hush, Kanaya. You’re still trapped in the fathomless limbo between this world and the next,” Rose said, turning back to Roxy. “For that matter, I fail to see how Miss Ebonyheart-”  
  
“ _E’bonyh’eart_ .”  
  
Another delicate cough came from the corner.  
  
“I fail to see how your godforsaken, one-dimensional self-insert manages to summon an ancient vampire queen when she’s barely even had three days of conjuration lessons. It stretches the bounds of credulity. In fact, I dare say, that it treats credulity out to a lovely steak dinner, makes polite conversation, and then spends the rest of the evening fucking it raw.”  
  
Roxy stomped her way over to the desk and slammed her palms down on it, leaning over to glare at Rose. “Oh em gee shut up, I told you like forty times already! Elspeth Skyzophrenya Lamentaria von Schwarzenheim E’bonyh’eart is half-demon, a third unicorn, and Zazzerpan’s daughter. It gives her some crazy awesome magical mojo, so she can totes summon whatever she wants.”  
  
“Ladies, please—” Kanaya tried again.  
  
“There are countless problems with her lineage alone, the least of which is that Zazzerpan is gayer than a sack full of rainbows.” Rose coolly met Roxy’s gaze, straightening her wizard hat nonchalantly.  
  
Roxy bent even closer, her forehead only a few inches from Rose’s. “That’s sooooo not true. What about Countess By’pollair Dis’ardeur? You’d have to clean up all that sexual tension with a mop.”  
  
“—followed by taking several deep inhalations in order to calm—”  
  
“First of all, the Countess is yet another one of your wretched sins against canon and proper storytelling,” Rose said, observing her nails with calculated disinterest. “And second, I created Zazzerpan, so if I were to tell you that he enjoys dressing up like a horse and being slathered in melted butter, it would be canonical.”  
  
“—wait, what was that about hoofbeast costumes—”  
  
“No, no, no. Death of the author, Rosie,” Roxy said, grabbing a fistful of Rose’s robes in each hand and hauling her up until their faces were only inches apart. This close she could smell the whiskey on Roxy’s breath, a sharpness that complemented the frown twisting her lacquered black lips. “Death of the motherfucking author.”  
  
“—I distinctly heard something about hoofbeasts—”  
  
Rose slapped away Roxy’s hands and sneered. “If you read Barthes like you read my novels, we should all be drowning in terribly punctuated ‘intent x interpretation’ slashfic.”  
  
“—you both are ignoring me and it is getting very annoying—”  
  
“Hey, Mommy Dearest, have you ever thought about not being a total cuntbucket all the time?” Rose hated to admit it, but Roxy was quite beautiful in her anger, her face flushing pink and her teeth bared. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to crush their lips together and grind out all her frustration on that lovely mouth.  
  
“Enough.” Kanaya seized them each by the upper arm, dragging them apart. “You two are acting like impudent wrigglers fighting over the same rotting flapbeast carcass.”  
  
Roxy tried her best to pull away, but even her strength was no match for the troll. She settled for crossing her arms as best she could. “Ick, Kan. Anyway, Rose started it. Today was supposed to be my reward for fixing her laptop after you clicked on that banner ad and she’s ruining everything.”  
  
“I most assuredly am not.” Rose did not make an attempt at escape, instead yanking the wizard hat off her head and tossing it to the ground. It was sad to see the hours of work Kanaya put into making their costumes go to waste, but the sight of the crumpled, purple fabric lying on the floor nicely underscored her barb. “It’s your insistence that we adhere to every last superfluous detail of ‘Elspeth’s Sexxxxy Majykkal Adventur’ that’s turning our evening of passion into complete and utter shit.”  
  
Kanaya winced as Rose purposefully enunciated each ‘x’, and her grip tightened. “Regardless of who started it, the one ending it will be me. Honestly, the two of you flip from black to red so often I don’t know whether to step in as an auspistice or lock you in a room to fight it out.”  
  
For all the calmness of her words, Kanaya’s face was painting quite a different picture; a jade blush spread across her cheeks tinting her radiance a soft green. The hand pinning Rose’s arm was quivering slightly, tensing and releasing as her claws lightly dug into Rose’s skin. A smug smile curved Rose’s lips as she leaned in closely to brush them against the troll’s shoulder. “Why Miss Maryam, is something the matter? You seem so flushed. Does the thought of interceding in our little tiff excite you?”  
  
“Holy shit, Kanaya, you’re totally getting off on this, aren’t you?” Roxy purred, her annoyance with Rose all but forgotten. Her fingers walked playfully up Kanaya’s arm to toy with the strap of her dress. “We’re totally ashen pornstars, Rosie.”  
  
“Mmm, yes.” Rose curled a hand around Kanaya’s wrist, lightly scraping her nails across the faintly glowing skin. She locked eyes with Roxy and they exchanged smirks at Kanaya’s sharp inhalation. “Mediate us, Kanaya. Mediate us  _hard_ .”  
  
Kanaya swallowed thickly as they watched, her grip bordering on painful, but her voice was steadier than Rose would have liked. “If you insist. I have heard of the human forgiveness ritual of ‘Kiss and Make Up’ and I would enjoy observing it very much.” Kanaya’s hands released their arms only to slip across their shoulders. The troll’s fingers teased into the hair at the back of their heads, urging them closer with a gentle, firm pressure.   
  
Instantly, Rose was struck by a familiar thread of fear as Roxy pressed close, her arms wrapping around Rose’s waist and tangling in the lose folds of her robes. No matter how many times they kissed, she could not shake the feeling that Roxy would jerk her head away and stare in disgust, and that all the love and laughter in her eyes would harden into the cold, apathetic expression that rarely left her mother’s face.  _Dearest darling daughter, only you could be so depraved._  And then thinking became impossible because Roxy was kissing her, her whole world shrinking to the smell of whiskey and the tickle of Roxy’s bangs as they brushed against her forehead.  
  
Roxy’s lips were soft. Her body was so very warm, making it easy for Rose to melt into her and wrap her arms loosely about her neck. Immediately Roxy’s tongue darted out and licked Rose’s lips. Rose had never found her ecto-twin to be a patient person, so it was only for her own amusement that she kept her mouth closed, letting Roxy smear black lipstick across both their chins trying to coax her open. With an annoyed huff, Roxy pressed closer and squeezed a little harder, her arms leaving the promise of bruises.  
  
“Rose darling, I believe you are missing the point of this exercise,” Kanaya hissed in her ear, her claws tracing delicately threatening patterns on Rose’s neck. “Allow me to assist you.”  
  
It was always difficult for Rose to remind herself that this was  _Kanaya_ , who would make all of them tea afterwards and would fuss over every little scratch and scrape. This was _Kanaya_ , who gardened and sewed and sorted their clothes by color, a remnant of the hemospectrum she clung to with a stubborn pride. This was the same Kanaya, gripping her jaws with calloused fingers to part her mouth and let Roxy slip inside. Then there was nothing but the bitter taste of Roxy’s three martini lunch as she ran her tongue along Rose’s teeth. Rose’s eyes snapped shut and as soon as Kanaya’s hand fell away, she tipped her head up and deepened the kiss.  
  
A low, growling purr was the only warning they received before Kanaya crushed them both against her, burying her face in Roxy’s hair. Breathing deeply, she mumbled, “You are both so lovely.”  
  
This close, Rose could feel the alien, three-beat rhythm of Kanaya’s heart, and the tremble in Roxy’s fingers as she cupped her cheek with a graceful hand. Rose pulled back and panted for air, her lips stinging. “Perhaps a bed would be in order.”  
  
“Too far,” Roxy breathed, already leaning in for a second kiss. “Man up, Rosie, we’re doing this old school.”  
  
Like the marvelous mediator she was, Kanaya stepped in with a compromise. “To the sofa. Now.”  
  
With that she bent her knees and hoisted Rose over one shoulder, wrapped an arm around Roxy’s waist, and half-dragged, half-carried them into the hall. The hallway to the living room wasn’t particularly long, but Kanaya crossed it in a few long strides and threw open the doors. Their living room was rather sparsely furnished, just a sofa, a few bookshelves, and a couple of chairs, but Rose had always felt that it made the room seem open and clean. There would be no piles of cat plushes and fabric cluttering up their aesthetic if she had anything to say about it.  
  
Kanaya bent over and set Rose down on the couch, her fingers then quickly plucking at the laces that held her robe together. Behind them Roxy slipped off her jacket and tossed it over her shoulder, undoing the buttons of her waistcoat with jerky motions. There would be scolding for that tomorrow; Kanaya would spend hours trying to iron the wrinkles out of every last inch of fabric. Rose could see the flicker of hesitation in the jadeblood’s eyes, the urge to rescue the jacket from its ignoble fate, and she wrapped a hand around her hooked horn, dragging her in close for a kiss.  
  
Rose delicately ran her tongue over the needle-sharp points of Kanaya’s fangs as her fingers stroked up and down the length of her horn. Kanaya had no feeling except at the very base, but given the way Roxy stopped and gaped open-mouthed, the visual was still quite impressive. Rose loosed an exaggerated moan for Roxy’s benefit as she dug her nails along the sensitive skin where Kanaya’s horn joined her skull.  
  
A loud rip echoed throughout the room. Rose and Roxy both stared at the ragged swathes of purple fabric Kanaya clutched in each hand. There were two large rents down the front of the robe, baring Rose’s thin, white camisole to the world.  
  
“Uh,” She had grace enough to look somewhat embarrassed, muttering, “I can fix it.”  
  
Roxy laughed and pulled Kanaya in for a kiss of her own. As Rose took the opportunity to wriggle out of her ruined robe, there was a sharp gasp from above her. Roxy jerked back, a line of blood trailing from a cut on her lip. Kissing Kanaya was always a challenge, and Rose had ruefully learned the only way to go about it was slowly and carefully, something Roxy never quite seemed to grasp.  
  
A feral grin split Roxy’s face. Before a single syllable of apology could escape Kanaya’s tongue, Roxy reached for the neck of Kanaya’s dress and yanked hard, pleased when the fabric tore all the way down to her waist. “You did say you could fix it.”  
  
Stunned by the sudden movement, Kanaya stared, her hands frozen by her chest.   
  
“How unwise, dearest,” Rose said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Roxy’s cheek. “I believe you owe darling Kanaya some sort of reparation.”  
  
She stepped behind Roxy and dropped her hands to her waist, nails trailing across her stomach. “Perhaps you could write her an apology note, beat at your breast with sorrow and remorse.” Rose dipped her fingers beneath her trousers, smothering a smile in Roxy’s shoulder. “Or you could do more chores around the house. I’m sure she could use some help with the gardening.” She slid her hands free and deftly unbuckled Roxy’s belt; slowly she tugged, painstakingly freeing the leather of every loop before allowing it to slip through her fingers to the floor. “But I think the best option would be to let her fuck you raw.”  
  
“I agree with your assessment,” Kanaya hoarsely swallowed.  
  
Rose felt Roxy’s shuddering gasp before she heard it, the lean muscles along her back tensing with want. Kanaya wasn’t faring much better, her fangs gleaming and a bead of sweat rolling down the expanse of bare skin at her chest.  
  
“Fine by me,” Roxy whispered, turning in Rose’s grasp and scooping her up in a bridal carry. She dropped Rose on the couch and climbed above her, moving to straddle her waist. “Long as she gets to do the same to you.”  
  
Even through the barrier of her pants, Rose felt the pure heat of Roxy’s center against her stomach. Everything about Roxy was warm, her smile, her hands, her eyes. This was the girl her mother was destined to be, not some cold, unfulfilled shell of a woman spending her days in a haze of sarcasm and vodka. Not A heroine without a story, doomed to the thankless task of raising an ungrateful daughter. Some days, Rose wondered just how many years of blackouts and cynicism it had taken to kill the laughter in her vibrant, pink eyes. Rose reached up with shaking fingers and tangled her hands in Roxy’s hair, bringing her head down to rest on her chest.  
  
Kanaya watched them hungrily, hastily stepping out of the ruins of her dress and joining them on the couch. She grabbed Roxy’s thighs and pulled until Roxy was lying on top of Rose rather than straddling her. The troll then proceeded to wrestle Roxy’s pants down around her ankles so she could kick them off. Pinned underneath Roxy, Rose could only stroke her hair and slide a hand under her shirt to glide down the length of her back. Kanaya perched over them like an elegant predator, ever the impossible mixture of class and ferocity.  
  
Roxy groaned into Rose’s breasts as Kanaya neatly parted her legs and slipped in between. From her angle, Rose couldn’t see Kanaya’s bulge but she could feel it sliding wetly along her thighs, curling and writhing in a way that should have been frighteningly alien. Roxy turned her head and pressed open-mouthed kisses to Rose’s collarbone, her hands playing agitatedly with the hem of the camisole.  
  
“God, I love you two,” Roxy sighed into Rose’s neck, gently cupping Rose’s breasts. “I love you both so much.”  
  
“Likewise,” Kanaya answered, grabbing a hold of Roxy’s hips and positioning herself.  
  
Rose did not respond. They knew how she felt, or at least she hoped they did, but she was still sorry for her silence. She was sorry, so she let Roxy bite down on her neck as Kanaya entered her, Roxy’s entire body tensing as the thick bulge slipped inside her inch by inch. Roxy squirmed and gasped, her teeth digging into Rose’s flesh. Kanaya threw her head back, a low moan tearing its way out of her throat. Her hands kept Roxy still and flush against her, until the entire length of her bulge buried deep inside Roxy.  
  
They stayed like that for a moment, locked tight together, and then Kanaya withdrew smoothly. She thrust back in, still slow, still calm. It wouldn’t last for much longer. Kanaya Maryam was many things: kind, compassionate, elegant, and ferociously demanding in bed. She was the only person Rose knew who could kiss someone sweetly as she fucked them into the mattress, as Rose herself has discovered on their very first night.  
  
The thrusts were harder now, each one making Roxy moan and curse. Rose tilted her head up and brought their lips together, tasting blood anew from Roxy’s cut. Roxy’s hands were squeezing her breasts too tightly to be completely comfortable, but it was exactly what Rose wanted. Let Roxy bruise her and scratch her and sear her name into every square inch of Rose’s body. Let this Roxy, with her smile and her passion, eclipse every last memory of stark, white lab coats and icy, bitter laughter. Rose would rather burn than freeze any day.  
  
“Is it good?” Rose murmured, eyes fixed on Roxy’s face as she writhed and groaned. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of alone at night writing your stories? Did they ever soothe your ache like this?”  
  
“No,” Roxy moaned, wrapping her arms around Rose and holding her close. “I never thought… Never knew…”  
  
Roxy wailed, every muscle in her body tensing tight as a bowstring. Kanaya kept moving throughout it, impaling her again and again until Roxy finally collapsed on top of Rose, limp and spent. She panted for a few minutes, her breath ghosting over Rose’s neck, bit by bit breathing her way back to normalcy. Rose brushed a few strands of sweat slicked hair out of her eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.  
  
“Rose.” Kanaya met her gaze, and Rose was certain that the aching need in Kanaya’s eyes was mirrored in her own.  
  
Kanaya pulled free of Roxy, who gave a hoarse gasp but did not move, and gave another growling plea. “Rose.”  
  
Rose took one of Kanaya’s hands in her own and laced their fingers together. “Of course, darling. You needn’t ask.”  
  
At the soft touch on her inner thigh, Rose spread her legs as best she could. She knew that every ounce of Kanaya’s control was bent on resisting the urge to just mount her like an animal. Kanaya’s bulge rubbed up against her, its writhing even more frenzied now that Kanaya was so close to pailing. Rose dropped Kanaya’s hand, instead reaching lower to help guide the warm flesh inside of her, hissing faintly as it stretched her.  
  
“Rose,” Kanaya said one last time, nearly unintelligible through her pants and growls.  
  
“I know.”  
  
Kanaya nodded once and forced in a little more of her bulge. No matter how many times they slept together, Rose was never able to get used to the sensation of the bulge coiling and twisting inside her. She was burning up, trapped between Roxy’s gentle warmth and Kanaya’s searing heat, beads of sweat dampening the couch cushions beneath them. Another short, sharp thrust knocked the air out of her lungs as she clung to Roxy, digging her nails into her shirt in a desperate attempt to ground herself against the pleasure. Rose arched hard and Kanaya grabbed her thighs, claws drawing pinpricks of blood as she slammed into her.  
  
“You’re pretty like this, Rosie.” Roxy said dreamily, sitting up so she could get a better look at Rose. “Not that you’re not always pretty, but—”  
  
She rubbed a thumb along the curve of Rose’s breast, smiling as Rose leaned into the touch.  
  
“—right now there are no walls, you know—”  
  
Roxy grabbed the hem of her camisole and lifted it until it was bunched around her shoulders.  
  
“—I feel like I can see the real you—”  
  
Catching her eye, Roxy gave her a surprisingly sad smile and licked a gentle line from the top of Rose’s stomach to just below her collarbone.  
  
“—and you are so fucking  _beautiful_ .”  
  
Kanaya groaned and pushed in hard, coming undone deep inside of Rose. The feel of genetic material leaking out of her to stain the couch was enough to push Rose over the edge herself. Roxy’s smile was the last thing she saw before her eyes snapped shut and she flailed desperately for something, anything to hold onto. A hand grabbed hers, though whether it was Roxy’s or Kanaya’s she could not tell. All that mattered was that it held her until the shaking stopped and Rose was quivering and raw beneath the only two people in the world she could trust with her heart.  
  
There would be tea and cleaning after this. They would scrub the couch cushions and sew up the tears in Kanaya’s dress. There would be showers and teasing and the sweet domesticity that was their reward for surviving the end of the world. Roxy slid off of Rose, moving so that they were lying side by side while Kanaya gathered them both into a loose embrace. There would be time for all that later. The last lucid thought that Rose had before succumbing to sleep was that she had never before felt so warm.


End file.
